


Keep Going

by loveyou-x3000 (Severa)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, InuYasha: Swords of an Honorable Ruler || Expanded Intro, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/loveyou-x3000
Summary: So'unga’s blade glimmered against the widening moon and Toga leaned harder against it, gripping its hilt as if it alone kept him tethered to this world. His breath fogged the winter air as he tried to catch his breath; he could feel the snow beneath his knees turning red. Here he was, the strongest demon in all the land, kneeling in a slush of his own blood. Dying. Fighting just to keep his eyes open.You have to keep going.He could see her footprints fresh in the snow. A trail he could follow. That anyone could follow. A young human princess with an infant half-demon, alone in a winter night...Keep going.
Relationships: Inu no Taishou/Izayoi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65





	Keep Going

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a [heavenin--hell sketch](https://heavenin--hell.tumblr.com/post/627013976942870528/imagining-the-scene-where-taisho-died-saving) on Tumblr. Go check it out!
> 
> This was also speed writing practice, so please excuse any weird errors! I'll come back and clean this up eventually.

Dying, it turned out, did not happen swiftly.

He’d been dying for hours now. Hell, he’d been dying since Ryūkotsusei—

_Damn._

There was a deafening crack above his head as the castle continued to burn, collapsing all around him. Flaming debris dropped down in a constant barrage, hellfire falling from the sky. There was little he could do but shield his eyes from the embers, holding his arm above his head as the other wrenched and pressed against the beam that pinned him to the ash floor.

For months now, it hadn’t been a matter of _if,_ but _when_. 

_“When exactly will you die, my dear?”_ his own wife had asked him, speaking with all the urgency that one might use to comment on the weather. Centuries together and she spoke about his death as if it were a passing storm. _“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one that seems so insistent upon it.”_

And even though the damnedable dragon was impaled on the cliffs, defeated, it didn’t make his wounds any less agonizing. The poisoned gash in his belly wasn’t sealed. His broken ribs weren't mended. The hazy blur in his vision hadn't calmed. The smoke only kept rolling into his lungs, the flames chasing up his legs wouldn't stop burning, and this _piece of shit_ beam felt heavier than those valley cliffs. 

_“You’re weak.”_

He could hear Sesshoumaru’s voice on repeat inside his skull— all his admonishments, his bitterness, and childish hate echoing like a death knell. Toga, his honorable Father, the Great Demon General, burned to death under a log. How he would despise him for such a legacy.

_"Pathetic."_

Sesshomaru hated him enough already. The least he could do for him was find a way to die on his feet. 

_C’mon._

The stars above twinkled between the flaming remnants of the roof, now burned down to the walls, nearly completely fallen around him. The eclipse had begun its unveiling, revealing the smallest crescent sliver of the moon. The moon the graced the brows of his son and his first wife— the same moon his infant son had been born under—

Determined, Toga twisted until he managed to catch the corner of the beam in his palm, ignoring the searing protests that erupted throughout his body as he _pressed—_

The beam simply broke in half under the force, the sound lost somewhere in the chaos of the inferno blazing around him. The relief was immediate, at least in that it stopped shoving the broken shards of his armor into his chest. But the sudden gasp that ripped through him only ended in a coughing fit, smoke burning heavy in his lungs. 

Toga grabbed his discarded sword, scraping his claws through dirt and ash as he used it as a crutch to get to his feet. His adversary was long gone, already forgotten. All that was left of him was a faint memory and the blood on his blade. The _samurai_ been brave, perhaps, but bravery often went hand in hand with stupidity.

Somewhere in the back reaches of his mind, So'unga began to laugh and taunt, but Toga wasn't so far gone that the evil spirit might overcome him. He knew he should be more concerned with the way that Tenseiga pulsed at his hip.

_Borrowed time._

Stumbling out of the remnants of Izayoi’s coastal estate, using the literal sword of death to keep him on his feet, Toga managed to escape the flames. He walked out onto the fresh fallen snow and fell to his knees, letting the flames burning at his _hakama_ (and his legs beneath) finally extinguish. 

So'unga’s blade glimmered against the widening moon and Toga leaned harder against it, gripping its hilt as if it alone kept him tethered to this world. His breath fogged the winter air as he tried to catch his breath; he could _feel_ the snow beneath his knees turning red. Here he was, the strongest demon in all the land, kneeling in a slush of his own blood. Bleeding out. Dying. Fighting just to keep his eyes open.

_Have to keep going._

He could see her footprints fresh in the white powder. A trail he could follow. That _anyone_ could follow. A young human princess with an infant half-demon, alone in a winter night... No one to protect them.

_Keep going._

Toga forced himself to his feet, letting his hand slide away from So'unga as he steadied himself. He peeled away his own armor, cumbersome and heavy, breaking it off in chunks and letting it fall unceremoniously at his feet. What a sight he must be, destroying what little he had left to protect himself. 

_Keep. Going._

And so he did, leaving So'unga behind underneath the moonlight. In his last hours— No, in his last moments, he wouldn’t shoulder that evil. Plans were already set to see it sealed. What lay before him was only his wife. His son. His goodbye.

Toga followed Izayoi’s footsteps into the forest.

* * *

When he found her, she came running.

“Dearest-”

He was too numb to feel her collide with him, apparently unbothered by his bloody chest as she embraced him. 

“- _oh_ , you’re all right.”

He felt himself smile, not having the heart to correct her. Instead he just let his arms wrap around her, hanging heavy across her shoulders. 

“Izayoi.”

And for a moment they just stood there, tangled up in each other’s arms. Lost in the moment. Toga kept enough presence of mind not to lean in on her, but the world was growing heavier with every passing minute. Pressing down on him from all angles, threatening to suffocate him. Promising to bring the darkness down around him.

Tenseiga pulsed and he took a deep, agonizing breath of frigid winter air. 

“The baby,” he managed, suddenly realizing how difficult it was to speak. 

“Ah- of course…” When she pulled away, the scent of her tears struck him, piercing through the still night. His hand moved without consulting his brain, cupping her face. “…InuYasha, he’s fine, I—” 

He realized too slowly that she had stopped talking. Instead, she was looking over him, wiping blood off her cheek. His blood.

 _I’m sorry._

She reached out and then pulled back, her hand hovering over his torn clothes and bloody gashes. Her eyes wide and glassy, expression torn somewhere between horror and despair. What he must look like to her, brought low like this. She had only ever known him at his best. Indestructable. Invincible.

“Izayoi…”

She knew.

“Come inside.” 

The tone shifted in that moment. Her hands moved to grasp his arm, suddenly unafraid, holding him up as if she could support his weight alone. It was sweet.

He ducked into the small cave she’d taken refuge in, letting her lead him to a spot where he could sit. Scraping his back against the wall as he eased himself down, he found himself gripping at his wounds. But it felt better being off his feet. The warmth of the tiny fire she’d made was comforting, a stark contrast against the memory of the inferno he’d just escaped. And on the other side of it, a bundle of writhing red fabric lay in its gentle light.

“Dearest,” she pressed back his bloody bangs, smoothing back his hair. He let his head fall back against the cool stone, eyes half-lidded as he watched her care for him. “Hold on.”

“Hn.”

And then she breezed away, taking her scent with her. It left him with a strange pang of loneliness. He’d miss that aroma once she was gone. Cherry blossoms and jasmine… He’d had that thought a hundred times, musings of all the little things about her that he would miss. He’d grieved the loss of her preemptively a thousand times. But in all those moments, he hadn’t ever thought he'd be the one leaving her.

_Izayoi._

She was back at his side as if she’d heard his thoughts, but this time her floral scent came with another. Something smaller, newer… the distant promise of rain before the thunderstorm, sharp and foreboding as the incoming darkness.

_InuYasha._

Carefully, so carefully, Izayoi transferred that fragile red bundle into his empty arms. His infant son squirmed a bit, trying to adjust to this new embrace, and Toga felt his heart melt to a puddle.

“InuYasha,” he said, for only the second time in this little one’s life.

Small little fists reached up to him, large golden eyes blinking in the dim light, and Toga couldn’t help but smile, ignoring how the world seemed to blur around the edges.

“Look,” Izayoi said, trying to level her voice through her tears. “His ears…”

He blinked, following the path of her hands up to the baby’s tiny, triangular ears.

_Ah._

Dog ears were perched on top of his head, nearly hidden between tufts of silver hair, a stark piece of evidence for his demonic blood. Others would curse him for them, no doubt. But right now he could do nothing but love him for them, leaning down to kiss the squirming child’s cheek.

“He’s perfect.”

Toga refused to think beyond this moment. Whatever was coming for him - that darkness, slow and gradual, hardly deterred by Tenseiga’s power - didn’t matter. Izayoi’s forehead against his cheek, his infant son in his arms… That was what mattered.

“Izayoi?” it was just a murmur, a whisper as he let InuYasha bat his face, his golden eyes staring at the free, bloody strands of hair that were falling over his Father’s shoulders.

“Yes, my love?”

He leaned in to her, nuzzling gently against her forehead. His thoughts were too far gone to worry about the blood.

“Promise me.” He gently nudged her with his nose, drawing her gaze up to his. He desperately wanted to take her face in his hands and wipe away the tears that stained her cheeks, but his arms were preoccupied with his first and only meeting with his youngest son. “You’ll live as long as you can.”

She smiled and what was left of his melted, gooey heart burned away. She wasn’t deserving of all this despair. He could only hate himself for cursing her in such a way as she reached up and took his face in her hands, demanding any scrap of attention he had left to give.

“Only if you do the same.”

He smiled.

“Of course.” 


End file.
